


shed one skin

by blackkat



Series: Crossover and Fusion Drabbles [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Naruto
Genre: Crack Treated Seriously, Gen, Humor, Orochimaru is Harry Potter, Ravenclaw Harry Potter, Reincarnation, Triwizard Tournament, the world will likely not survive
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-29
Updated: 2018-09-29
Packaged: 2019-07-20 09:04:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16134056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackkat/pseuds/blackkat
Summary: Orochimaru is reborn as Harry Potter. It makes things...interesting.





	shed one skin

“Harry, my boy,” the buffoon in yellow and black says nervously. “The Task is starting _now_.”

Orochimaru contains a roll of his eyes at the incorrect name, but doesn’t bother looking up, just flips to the next page of his book. “I’m aware, thank you,” he says, and only keeps it from being cutting because Cho tends to frown at him when he makes grown men cry. “Everything is perfectly under control, Mister Bagman.”

Ludo Bagman practically wrings his hands, casting a nearly desperate glance at the Black Lake. “Well,” he says with his best attempt at cheer. “If you're sure, Harry my boy. This is—this is a very important moment—”

It’s worse than Suigetsu at his most nervous ever was. This time Orochimaru doesn’t bother to hide the roll of his eyes, and he rises to his feet, dusting off his robes and tucking his book into one draping sleeve. A special request to Madam Malkin, but worth it for giving him ample room to spell the interior. Orochimaru is certainly _capable_ of dramatics without hiding large things in improbable places, but it’s such a simple flourish while also being greatly enjoyable.

“Excuse me, Mister Bagman,” he says, more or less politely—Cho is better at Politely Disappointed Face than Tsunade or Jiraiya ever were, and it’s having a definite and unappreciated effect on Orochimaru’s manners—and steps past the announcer, hearing the stands go hushed in a wave. Irritating, slightly, but endurable, and Orochimaru draws his wand. It sparks sadly, already well aware that he’s only holding it for show, but doesn’t otherwise protest. With a careless flick of his wrist, Orochimaru channels just a touch of chakra—magic has its uses, but really, chakra is so much more _versatile_ —bends the shape of it around, and—

A dragon made entirely of lake water surfaces, dragging a shape along with it. Cho’s eyes open as she hits open air, and she gasps, twists, tumbles free of the jutsu’s jaws. Orochimaru leaps lightly onto the surface of the water, then up, catches her around the waist, and tumbles them back to the shore.

“ _Oh_ ,” Cho says, breathless, and grips his arm hard, steadying herself.

Orochimaru waits as she gets her balance back, dismissing the jutsu with a thought. It collapses back into the lake, and the water from Cho’s robes follows it in a thin stream to leave her dry.

“A sleeping charm of some sort?” Orochimaru asks with interest.

Cho laughs a little, breathless, and lets go of him. “You're such a Ravenclaw,” she says, though it’s hardly a complaint, and smooths her hair back behind her ears. Pauses, looking at him, and then smiles. “The thing you’ll miss the most?” she asks, not quite pointed.

Orochimaru ignores that. She’s one of the few tolerable people in Hogwarts, and he isn't about to lose the only study partner who doesn’t care about his…eccentricities. Or his name, though Orochimaru cares less about that part. He’s used to being infamous.

“I wonder how many points being first back will get me,” he says, watching the judges with narrowed eyes. He doesn’t _actually_ care, but it’s the principle of the thing.

“Not as much as it should, with Karkaroff as a judge,” Cho answers, a little tartly, and she’s watching them, too. Then she turns away, tugging at Orochimaru’s wrist, and says with amusement, “You didn’t even muss your hair.”

Orochimaru touches the neat bun he’d bound his hair into, then hums lightly. “After the dragon, I thought I might actually have to exert myself for the Second Task,” he says dismissively. “My mistake.”

It makes Cho laugh, and she leads Orochimaru a little way away from the lake, closer to where Madam Pomfrey is watching the lake, hawk-like. Up in the stands, there's an ear-piercing whistle, and Ron waves at both of them, grinning widely. Cho waves back, because Orochimaru can't be bothered, and then sinks down onto the grass to wait. “Was that one of the spells you were looking up yesterday, Harry?” she asks.

Regardless of whether they're…something like friends, Orochimaru is hardly about to tell her that he was researching the Philosopher’s Stone. After the mess in his first year she’ll probably disapprove, and when she disapproves she inevitably gets Hermione on board with her disapproval. Orochimaru is getting tired to being ganged up on. Hermione isn't even in his House. She should have no say in his actions.

“Something I read gave me the idea,” he says, which is close enough—an entry on Antipodean Opaleyes reminded him of the jutsu, and tweaking it to find Cho in the lake was simple enough. _Laughably_ simple, but that’s the story of Orochimaru’s life now. He rather misses being able to kill people, just for the change of pace.

Of course, there's always Voldemort. Orochimaru’s nose wrinkles on instinct, just from the _memory_ of the man’s halfhearted posturing. Really, he’s done better work half-dead. It’s shameful. But at least Orochimaru will have the chance to kill him seven times, which should make up for some of the irritation.

“You have that look again,” Cho says, and when he glances up she’s smiling at him. “Plotting to take over the world?”

“Only the libraries,” Orochimaru says, which is entirely true, and Cho laughs.


End file.
